Stone-Cold Hearts
by The Seventh Avenger
Summary: Natasha Romanoff was trained to feel no pain. But when she becomes pregnant with her worst enemy's son, she unveils a whole new world unbeknownst to her, one where anguish lies in every step and hurt is a common term. To feel her way through her twisted world of love, she must open her stone-cold heart to a man with a heart every bit as frozen as hers.
1. The Beginning of the End

**Hello everyone!**

**So you may (or may not) know me as the author of ****Avengers Slumber Party****, which was categorized as comedy. This is not. This is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I'VE WRITTEN BEFORE!**

**Basically, this came into my head today when I came up with a certain quote and then built the whole story around it.**

**Pairing: BlackFrost**

She should never have done it.

Never have locked eyes with him.

Never have looked upon him at all.

And never have had a little too much to drink late at night with him.

She knew – she'd _thought_ she'd known – it was impossible for her cold heart to love. She'd learned that the hard way. Even when Clint, poor, loving Clint had tried to reach her, to love her, she'd pushed him away. Sealed off the empty caverns of her heart to listen to their stony echoes.

Until now.

There was a strange fluttering in her chest, one she did not recognize but could not ignore. The blossoms of love.

But what did it matter?

She was an assassin. A Black Widow. And as such, she was supposedly destined to kill her mate. Perhaps that was why she had frozen her heart, packaged it tightly away in the hollow space of her chest to rest. She was afraid of the outcome of love.

Then he came along, with his icy gaze and stone-hard eyes, distant yet intriguing. The way they gleamed with a wicked light immobilized her, and she found a twisted beauty in the depths of his malicious ways, for he had a stone-cold heart to match her own.

She gripped her head in her hands, breathing shallowly. This was too much. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take it. She couldn't take it. Why had she hurt herself in this way? Forced herself to bear a pain and responsibility unlike any she had ever borne before?

A hand dropped to her stomach. Flat. But who knew how long the child would take to grow. The baby was the child of an immortal human woman and a god. There was no such precedent.

Natasha breathed in, out. In, out. And again, in, out, as tears began rolling down her face.

She should never have fallen for the god of mischief and lies.

She should never have met Loki Laufeyson.

But now she was forced to bear his burden.

**GASP!**

**Please review!**


	2. A Cold Blow

**Thanks for the positive support! I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going to take this story, so please bear with me.**

**Enjoy!**

Natasha walked through the hallways of the SHIELD Helicarrier, her ridiculous heels clicking and echoing through the empty space. Her mind blank, she turned down the corner and found herself face to face with Steve Rogers.

"Hey," he said gently.

She pushed him away, a little more harshly than she should've. "I don't want to talk."

He caught her arm as she brushed past. "Listen, Natasha," he said quietly. "Fury told me about –"

She snapped out, landing a solid punch on his jaw. The soldier recoiled, wincing. Immediately, the Widow felt guilty. Poor Steve. He was always trying to help. Natasha had closed off her heart once again.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I –"

Steve nodded quietly. "Yeah."

There was an awkward silence, and Natasha mumbled, "Bye," before hurriedly walking away.

"Natasha." She stopped. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here."

Her icy heart melted just a little. "I know. Thank you."

As she walked away, Steve tenderly touched his jaw. That was definitely going to bruise.

**Short chapter, I know, but I'm kind of busy today. Next chapter, Natasha finally confronts Loki!**


	3. The Beauty and the Beast

**Hello, everyone!**

**I'm going to try to make this chapter longer (shoutout to nitoki for the suggestion), since I have a little more time on my hands tonight.**

**Enjoy!**

Natasha breathed in and out. And in and out again.

"You look tense, my spider."

She stiffened. "Loki," she breathed.

And suddenly he was behind her, arms wrapped around her, mouth by her ear. "Did you miss me?" he whispered.

Natasha resisted the urge to throw him off her back, to fling him on the floor as all of her years of training required. Instead, tears welled up, but she quickly forced them back. And it didn't take long before the accusations began.

"You know I'm pregnant."

His body grew rigid. "Yes."

Natasha closed her eyes, a wave of anger sweeping through her. "And what? Are you taking responsibility? Are you going to care for the child? Are you going to leave me, go back to Asgard, forget I existed, find another woman to love? A woman you can have all for yourself, without restrictions or limitations or anything you would have with me?" She shrugged him off harshly. "I thought I could respect you," she hissed. "Even after what you did to my world."

"Your world?" His smooth, cold voice grew icier. "Are you so important that you claim the land of your forefathers? That you forego the Battle of New York, stake a claim to the winnings, believe that you and solely you brought about victory?"

Natasha whirled to face him. "_Our world!_" she screamed. "_Our_ world that I thought you had grown to love! _Our_ world that I thought you had come to accept as yours!" A lump grew in her throat. "Are you going to pick apart every word of mine to criticize me? Do you find it entertaining to watch me get hurt?" Then her voice dropped so low she could barely hear it herself. "Did you ever love me?"

Loki stared, aghast, even taking a step back. A heavy silence fell like a dark cloud, and Natasha could feel it soaking her bones, freezing them to ice. But ice cracks more easily under pressure, and with an almost soundless whisper, Natasha murmured, "I didn't think so." She turned away again.

And then he was upon her, his arms tight around her stomach, his cold skin pressed against hers. "Of course I did," he whispered back. "You know I did. And I would never leave you for another woman."

Natasha could feel the lump in her throat growing, encasing her. She feared that when she spoke again, she would be rendered mute. So instead she closed her eyes and let Loki hold her until at last she whispered, "I want to name him Nikolai."

"Is it a boy?"

"I know it is."

There was another moment of silence, almost feather-light. Natasha kept her eyes closed, and then the words came spilling out unbidden like a waterfall of thoughts. "Because it's Russian. But mostly because it has your name in it."

She could feel rather than hear him chuckle, the way it resonated through his ribs. "Does it?"

"Backwards, yes, but I would never name my child Loki. Or anything that vaguely resembles it. Sorry."

A deep-throated laughter unlike any she had heard him give before rumbled its way out. "I can't blame you."

They stood there, the beauty and the beast, though which creature was which Natasha didn't dare to guess. She was every bit as much a monster as her lover. She blamed it on her frozen heart, a heart that never felt sympathy when her hand pulled a trigger or hit flesh or pulled a knife out of her victim. The curse of the spider's bite.

A small cough came over her earpiece. "Agent Romanoff?"

She pulled away from Loki instantly, an invisible blush creeping to her cheeks. "Yes, sir."

"Please report to the conference room. When you're ready, that is."

The agent sighed. "Yes, sir." She moved to turn off her earpiece.

Loki swept over to her and locked their lips in a harsh kiss before bringing his lips to her neck. After an impossibly long yet improbably short moment, he pulled away. "You should get going, my spider."

And as she stole away, Natasha realized with a harsh pang that he had never called her his love. Only as his spider.

**OOOOOOOOOOO**

Tony Stark gaped at the mark on Natasha's neck. "Is that what I think it is?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you must know, Stark, it is."

He grinned. "Nothing to be ashamed of. You should've seen what Pepper –"

Steve coughed, blushing. "Um. Anyway. Thank you all for coming."

"Now, who's running this meeting?" Tony demanded. "You or the pirate?"

"Stark," growled Fury, "shut up."

The billionaire shrugged. "Just saying."

Steve looked uncomfortable. "As I was saying, we are all here to discuss Natasha."

All eyes turned to her. _Thanks, Captain, for the added attention._ She shrugged. "What?"

Steve pulled at his collar. "Well, it's not really safe for you to be in the field. So SHIELD is putting you on temporary leave."

Horror rose in her throat. "No! No, you can't do that!" SHIELD operations were her life, her distraction, her _identity_. Without them, who was she?

"Miss Romanoff," Fury's voice cut in, cool and collected as ever. "As you are fully aware, we normally require agents to be ready at any moment. However, I believe we can make an exception for you."

"Question." Snarky Stark raised his hand. "Since when do we have that rule? Because by no means am I _semper fidelis_."*

"Tony, even if you knew about it, you wouldn't pay attention to it anyway," Bruce Banner pointed out calmly. "So no one bothered to tell you because you always do the opposite of what you're told."

"Dr. Banner is, as usual, correct," Fury said. "So, Stark, if you would kindly shut your trap so we could get on with the meeting –"

"Are you our babysitter, Director? Because I'm sure we can find someone better –"

"Tony." Steve gave him a look that said, _Drop it_. Surprisingly, Tony did so, muttering something about 'hot babysitter women.'

"Anyway, Director Fury has made an executive decision that Natasha remain in the maternity ward starting two months from now."

"Two months?" Natasha demanded.

Unfazed, the Captain nodded. "Since we are unsure how quickly the child will grow, we will have to be prepared for anything."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," interrupted Tony. "So you're keeping it?"

"It's a he," Natasha snarled angrily, "and yes, I am keeping my child."

"Because you could just get an abortion and forget about it – him. And forget about Loki. Problem solved." Tony shrugged, ignorant of Natasha's death glare and the stares of the other Avengers. "You've killed enough people in your life, haven't you?"

"Tony!" Steve interrupted quickly, but he was not soon enough. Natasha's death glare fell off her face, and she turned white. A muffled sob ripped through her, and she ran out of the room.

The remaining Avengers sat there silently. "Will Miss Romanoff be okay?" inquired Thor (who was still trying to get used to the fact that his brother had impregnated the god of thunder's teammate).

Steve sighed. "I certainly hope so." He then began lecturing a barely-listening but seriously concerned Tony about sensitivity.

Clint shrugged, his regular apathetic self on the outside, a quivering mess on the inside. Natasha? The woman he loved? Pregnant with, of all people, _Loki's_ son? The only thing he could manage to say was, "Hormones."

**So what did you think? I'm considering a talk between Clint and Natasha in the next chapter. Ideas?**

***Always ready**


	4. Bonds of Blood

**I'm really, really sorry for not updating… inspiration had completely left me…**

**I reread through this fic, and I've decided that there's not much farther I'm willing to take it. This was always meant to be a short little story, just sort of snippets of conversation, and I think I'm only going to post one or two more chapters after this one.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

Natasha locked herself into her quarters and collapsed onto her bed, tears streaming silently down her face.

_You've killed enough people in your life, haven't you?_

Tony. Insensitive, unfeeling, haughty Tony. It had just been a joke, but it had hit home.

_Can you really wipe out that much red?_

She choked back a sob. Her whole life, she had been trained not to feel, but now it seemed as if all those stifled feelings were coming rushing out. It was overwhelming.

_Hormones_, she dismissed, but she knew at heart – somewhere in those empty, shadowy caverns of her heart – that there was something deeper going on. Perhaps it was a realization that she was now responsible for a life other than her own. Or an understanding that she, Natasha Romanoff, was a cold-blooded killer. A murderer.

_Those people had hopes_, she thought to herself. _Dreams. Every one of them. Even the worst of the worst always had a purpose in life._

_And I took that purpose away._

A gentle knock came on her door. "Nat?"

Clint.

She wiped away her tears and called out, "Go away."

"Nat… please."

She sniffled a little before forcing herself up and shuffling over to the door. Natasha unlocked it and went back to her bed. "Door's unlocked."

The door swung silently open, and her partner – her partner in crime – looked at her worriedly. "Nat…"

Natasha didn't say anything, just ran over to him and collapsed, sobbing, into his arms. His strong, sturdy arms. Nothing like Loki's, slender and icy and fragile.

Why couldn't she have fallen in love with Clint?

She thought she had, for a while. She thought that the bond that had formed between them had been something besides just a bond tied with blood, reinforced and strengthened by misery, suffering.

She was wrong.

When they sent Loki back to Asgard, a little part of her heart had gone with him. When he was sent back, the piece of her heart returned. But different. It was beating and alive, not dead and black. It had touched her with love, real love.

How could she do this to her best friend?

Clint held her back, gave her himself to cry on, let her tears abuse his skin and his clothes. He supported her. He was her rock.

She pulled away at last. "I'm sorry," she whispered. And there was so much in that. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I used you. I'm sorry you love me.

His eyes fixed on hers. "Do you want to talk?"

His gaze showed a flicker of caring, something rarely apparent on his composed features. She couldn't refuse him.

Natasha swallowed. There was a quiet moment of silence, breaths intermingling. Breath in. Out. In.

Out.

"I love you," she blurted out, then wished she could take it back. The hurt on his eyes, the way he drew back, spoke volumes.

"I thought I loved you," he replied, his expression pained. "But worse, I thought you loved me."

Tears formed in her eyes. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she hold it together? "I… I thought I did, too."

"And then what?"

_And then what?_

_Then I fell in love with Loki._

_Then my heart melted._

_Then I learned the true meaning of pain._

"I realized… I realized where my heart has been trying to lead me," she said slowly, not to savor the words but because she could not find the right way to express her inner feelings.

"To Loki?" he demanded. "Nat, look, I respect your decision – if that's what this is – but… Loki is dangerous. I don't trust him."

Natasha caught her breath. Instinctively, she felt an urge to hit him, but she swallowed it down. Something fluttered in her chest. "I don't, either."

"But you love him."

It was not a question.

Tears pooled again, threatening to paint her cheeks with water once more. "Yes."

They watched each other, and Natasha felt her heart grow, swelling in her chest until it was painful to bear. She watched as Clint closed his eyes, a look of pain flashing across his features, before he opened them and said, "Natasha, I trust you." Then he opened the door and walked away without a second glance.

She could barely register what he'd just said.

_He called me Natasha._

_He can trust me._

_Or rather, he does trust me._

_He loves me._

Her heart, so tight in her chest, began to shrink until she felt that surely it had been reduced to a little pebble. If only she could take it out of her chest, throw it away. Maybe then she would no longer feel.

**So there was the much-delayed update… I hope you liked it!**


	5. Knowledge

**Hello, fanfictioners!**

**I think this will be the second to last chapter. I'm considering having Natasha talk privately with each of the other Avengers (two down), but I'm unsure. To be quite honest, I'm losing direction with the plot line. Review with your opinions!**

**This is just a short little chapter where Natasha talks with Thor. Enjoy!**

Natasha didn't come out of her room.

For six days.

She had junior agents bring her food and water. However, the rule was that agents must leave her requests outside of her door, politely knock, and then leave immediately.

The black widow had become a recluse spider.

No Avengers dared to disturb her. It was dangerous to mess with someone in such a state as hers. And Clint, who had always thought himself the closest to her, couldn't bear to face her again after their last conversation.

Steve had asked Fury multiple times if he should go talk to her, see if she was doing okay. Each time he had been told no. The Black Widow, word was, was too fragile to talk to anyone.

Tony had offered to apologize. He had been told no.

Bruce offered to console her. He had been told no.

That left Thor.

Thor, however, didn't ask for permission.

On day seven, the god knocked lightly on Natasha's door. "Lady Natasha," he called out softly. "May I speak with you?"

"No," she replied bluntly. "Go away."

Thor, however, refused to give up. "Lady Natasha, I –"

"No."

He dropped his hand to his side. No use. He would talk to her again when she emerged, he reasoned, and began to walk away.

The door swung silently open behind him. "Wait."

Thor turned back to see a tearful Black Widow, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, emerge. "I'm sorry, Thor… can you come back?"

He didn't hesitate.

Inside, after Natasha had closed the door, Thor stood awkwardly in her room. "Lady Natasha, I just wanted to apologize for my brother's rude behavior. There is no reason for him not to support you as you bear his child."

She smiled weakly.

"Loki is a fool," Thor continued.

The name sent a pang through her, but she hid the pain and asked, "How so?"

Thor shook his head. "He does not realize how grateful he should be that you are his love."

Natasha felt a shockwave that went straight to her heart. Grateful? For her? For the spider that was destined to kill its mate? For the Avenger who had thwarted his plans? For the assassin that had blood on her hands?

Then she thought about his words. _Love_. Did Loki truly love her? She had thought, for a while, that perhaps he did. That maybe his outer façade had crumbled to reveal a soft center of warmth and caring. He had acted like he loved her. She had loved him.

Until she learned that she carried his child.

Then he turned away coldly, refused her attention. Only occasionally would he return, usually to spit hateful words at her. On rare, rare occasions did he show that he still loved her.

Most of the time, however, he didn't come at all.

She saw him only in her sleep.

"Thor, I…" She shook her head. "I really don't know what to say."

He bowed. "That was all I needed to tell you. I will go now, if you would have it that way."

He opened the door, ignoring some agents who ogled at him emerging from the lion's den. "Thor?" a voice came from inside.

He turned back.

"Thank you."

He smiled lightly. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, my lady."

As he closed the door behind him, Natasha put a hand on her stomach. He child was growing quickly.

Loki's child.

She felt comfort with the thought now. Loki loved her. Perhaps she was too quick to believe, basing her knowledge only on Thor's words. But at heart, deep down, she felt that she had always known the truth.

Loki loved her.

It was going to be all right.


End file.
